Each weekday on this blog you will find an episode of a western short story featuring Rance Dehner, a detective who operates in the old West. When the story concludes, it will be archived for those readers who prefer to read a story from start to finish.

“Well, before you leave you gotta have a good
breakfast,” Elsie declared. “I’ll start getting’ the food on the table. Isaiah
should be back from early chores soon."

Ricky Cates smiled, but he wasn’t happy. Isaiah,
a hired hand, was a lot stronger than his elderly and frail boss. Cates could
tell that Isaiah did not accept the Robin Hood story he had fed that crazy
writer from the East. The outlaw hated Isaiah for that. Ricky Cates also hated
Isaiah for his black skin.

Hoofbeats sounded from outside. Simon awkwardly
arose from his chair and hobbled over to the window. He brushed back the thin
curtains, then turned to Ricky. “It’s Marshall Tyler and his deputy!”

Episode Two:

Ricky
scooped up the bedroll that lay on the floor. “Get rid of ‘em. Fast!” He rushed
inside the Bolger’s bedroom.

Marshall
Pete Tyler spotted Simon at the window as he and his deputy, Amos Noonan,
hitched their horses. The Marshall smiled and nodded as the two lawmen stepped
onto the front porch of the house.

Simon
opened the door before Pete could knock. “Mornin’ Marshall, Deputy. Been a
while since you two have been out this way.”

“Reckon
so,” the Marshall replied. “Last time we were in these parts was about eight
months ago, when we were tracking the Carnes gang.”

“Back
then, you folks were great about lettin’ us put on the feed bag,” Deputy
Noonan’s freckled face gleamed with hope. “We could sure use some of that
kindness now. The Marshall and me has been ridin’ hard. Getting’ mighty tired
of eatin’ jerky.”

Amos
Noonan’s face took on a dreamy look. He smelled the food being prepared in the
kitchen. Simon couldn’t see any way he could lie about having already eaten.
“No, Elsie and me was jus’ getting’ ready to sit down. Both of you’s are
welcome.”

The
two lawmen took off their hats as they ambled into the Bolger house. Marshall
Tyler felt a bit awkward. It wasn’t right imposing like this on folks. If he
had been more at ease himself, he might have spotted Elsie’s nervousness as she
stepped out of the kitchen. After greeting the two lawmen, she fussed with her
apron and tried to sound casual. “What brings you two gents to these parts?”

“Didn’t
ya hear?” Amos Noonan spoke loudly as was his custom. “The bank in Grimsby got
robbed two days ago. We’re trackin’ the man who done it. Think it was Ricky
Cates.”

Elsie’s
anxiety sounded like anger in her voice. “Can’t see why a U.S. Marshall and his
deputy have to make such a big deal over two hunnert dollars. That banker, Russ
Adams, thinks he has to have every penny in the territory.”

Marshall
Tyler looked confused. “Ma’am?”

“Well,
that’s all that got took from the bank. Two hunnert dollars!”

“Where’d
you hear that?” A strong curiosity laced Pete Tyler’s voice. Cates could hear
it from where he stood directly behind the door of the bedroom. The outlaw
stared at the six-shooter in his right hand. As always, it gave him a sense of
power.

The Posse

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Bio

As a kid, I idolized Hopalong Cassidy, which was the most intelligent choice I made during my first thirty years. Much of my professional life has been spent as a literary agent, but I also wrote westerns to prove I didn’t always have to live off the work of other people.
I can now devote myself full time to writing in a genre I love. I’m being a straight shooter when I say your opinion is important to me. When you have a moment, let me know what you think about Wild West Detective. Alas, the western genre has been riding over some tough territory for several decades. I hope this site can bring new folks into the corral and give them a taste of the fun that the western has given me.
jamesclay20@gmail.com